


Mortification is Not Appropriate Soundproofing

by NyxKeilantra413



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Kinky Sheith, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Sleep Deprivation, but like in the background - Freeform, should i tag it lance whump, should i tag the kinks sheith practice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-19 09:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17598275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxKeilantra413/pseuds/NyxKeilantra413
Summary: Fact #1: Lance has been living in his current apartment for two months.“Ngh...”Fact #2: Lance has gotten two neighbours, an attractive gay couple living together, for a month.“Uh!”Fact #3: Lance’s neighbours have been...enthusiastically noisy, at night, ever since moving in.“Oooh...”Fact #4: Lance, thanks to the paper-thin wall separating his apartment from his neighbours, has been unable to sleep properly for the past month.“Say it.”Fact #5: Lance, if the lack of sleep continues on, willdie.“Daddy!”Lance clenches his blanket and presses it harder over his head, suppressing sobs of frustration.





	Mortification is Not Appropriate Soundproofing

**Author's Note:**

> me in 2018, Foolishly excited before S8: I'm gonna write and publish a new fic after S8 drop!!  
> *indescribable acts of horror happened*  
> me, no longer Foolishly excited after S8: Oh well... Gonna recover and publish somewhere around Christmas... Heh...  
> me on 23th December: Christmas Eve!!  
> me on 24th December: Mmm lets wait until Christmas  
> me on 25th December: B-Boxing Day...?  
> me on 30th January, with New Year Eve, New Year, Russian Christmas and Hunk's bday all having passed: ...

Having grown up in a household full of living beings from the biggest human to the smallest bacteria, then spent four years in a college dormitory relatively on level with the aforementioned household, Lance McClain is understandably excited to start living on his own.

Finally, no more favourite food devoured by greedy mouths that are not his own. No more showers having to be fought to the death for when one intends to spend more than ten minutes in there. No more bedroom doors slammed open by unrepentant siblings when he wants to jack off in peace. No more _babysitting_. From here on, Lance will only have me-time.

(“Lance, you can’t stand being alone. That one time you stayed home to study and your family left to reunion you immediately begged me to hang with you-”

“Me-time, Hunk, _me_ -time. Shush.”)

So, Lance is excited. Then comes troubles, one after another.

Leaky ceiling. Pests he has to slay himself. Chores he can’t foist on anyone else. Bills. Taxes.

And _the worst_ —

Well, before we begin, there are some facts of note.

Fact #1: Lance has been living in his current apartment for two months.

_“Ngh...”_

Fact #2: Lance has gotten two neighbours, an attractive gay couple living together, for a month.

_“Uh!”_

Fact #3: Lance’s neighbours have been... _enthusiastically noisy_ , at night, ever since moving in.

_“Oooh...”_

Fact #4: Lance, thanks to the paper-thin wall separating his apartment from his neighbours, has been unable to sleep properly for the past month.

_“Say it.”_

Fact #5: Lance, if the lack of sleep continues on, will _die_.

_“Daddy!”_

Lance clenches his blanket and presses it harder over his head, suppressing sobs of frustration.

* * *

 

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Lance has said the same thing multiple times. The first time he said so, a month minus two days ago, Lance was indignant. Insulted. Affronted. His feathers ruffled. His sensibilities offended. It was funny then.

Now? Now Hunk is sympathetic. It’s still funny, yeah, but—

“I can’t. I just _can’t_ ,” Lance’s voice trembles and ends in a crack. It rends Hunk’s heart to hear that. It also embarrasses Hunk because Lance then adds, “They just—they just—first it was pet names. Like, sweetheart and kitten and baby boy. It was fine! Almost sweet, even. But then there was d— _daddy_. Then there was ABDL, crossdressing, _fucking piss of all things_ -!”

Pidge, having formerly dismissed Lance’s concern and only now realized the gravity of the situation, pales as she tries to silence Lance. But Lance, having been denied the animal comfort of sleep for so long, will not be silenced. His long arm determinedly holds Pidge at a distance, until she can only flail ineffectively.

“Last night,” Lance continues, eyes wide with horror and made even more horrifying by the raccoon-worthy bags under those eyes, “they were role-playing. Buffet was a schoolmaster like in those old movies. Bitchy was a school delinquent. He got spanked by Buffet. He had to count the hits out loud. One, thank you sir... Two, thank you sir... Three, _thank you sir_ -!”

Hunk deems it prudent to silence Lance himself. Lance flails, but hasn’t let go of Pidge. Pidge flails. If only Pidge’s arms are longer, she may be able to silence Hunk as well so he, too, can flail.

As it is, he resigns himself to console Lance instead.

“Hey, Lance, it’s okay,” he tries. “Well, not so okay—I mean, it _is_ okay ‘cause they’re consensual and not hurting anyone—well, except you if you count depriving your sleep as hurting you—okay, okay! I just, it’s okay. You _will_ be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?” Lance croaks. His eyes are listless, lifeless, devoid of hope. “How can you be so sure I’ll be okay, Hunk? I can still hear them—him, still counting those hits... One thank you sir, two thank you sir...!”

Hunk places his hand over Lance’s mouth again. Lance consequently flails again.

“I’ll be honest: I don’t know,” Hunk tells Lance bluntly. “More precisely, I don’t know _how_. You might get accustomed to their _enthusiasm_. They might get less enthusiastic. They might move out, or _you_ move out. There are numerous possibilities.”

“Yeah, true!” Pidge, having freed herself from Lance’s tentacle-like grip, chimes in. “You might even get in an accident and go deaf, then you won’t be able to hear their bedroom activities anymore!”

Lance doesn’t seem very _enthusiastic_ in the prospect Pidge offers. Hunk wants to believe it a positive thing; if Lance actually wants that then _he_ would have to go meet Buffet and Bitchy—Lance’s names for his neighbours—and ask them himself to lower their voices. In between complaining about their bedroom activities, Lance has mentioned several times that Buffet is Very Buff and Bitchy looks able and willing to shank a man.

Finally, Lance just sighs, “Eh, whatever...”

“That’s the spirit,” Pidge smiles. Foolishly, she slaps Lance’s back to encourage him.

Lance mutters, “One, thank you sir.”

Pidge attempts to silence Lance again. They flail again.

**Author's Note:**

> I had already written this when I lost my muse, and after today's fruitless, three-hour endeavour to continue, I decided to just post it as it is lmao
> 
> Warning: Can't promise when (or WHETHER) I will update!!


End file.
